


I'll Save You, I Promise

by bangin_patchouli



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Reader Insert, demon blood!Sam, samxreader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 12:52:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3120827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bangin_patchouli/pseuds/bangin_patchouli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I've finally come over my writers block... yay! Here's this, which I came up with throughout the day, enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote>





	I'll Save You, I Promise

**Author's Note:**

> So I've finally come over my writers block... yay! Here's this, which I came up with throughout the day, enjoy.

* * *

~

      It had been hours since Sam had left. _I'm only going to get food, calm down, Y/N,_ is what he had said. But that wasn't what you were worried about, thought you hadn't told him about what was actually concerning you. You figured he knew. So there you were, sitting at the motel's small table, reading articles and websites on the monster you were hunting, trying to get your mind off of your troubles. Dean had passed out a couple hours ago, and Sam wasn't answering his phone.

      You huffed in anxiety and annoyance, and shut the laptop with force of your emotions. You leaned forward, putting your head in your arms as you felt your eyes begin to sting. Suddenly, you felt a gentle, warm hand on your shoulder. You looked up to your left and saw Dean looking at you with sympathy and worry in his eyes.

      "Why don't you take a break?" He said. You sighed and nodded, standing up from the chair. Dean walked with you over to the creaky couch. "I'll call him again," He said as you plopped down and grabbed the remote.

      "He wouldn't answer me; it just went straight to voicemail," You told him, turning the TV to the news. Dean didn't listen, just flicked to Sam's contact on his phone. After maybe thirty seconds, Dean started talking.

      "Hey, Sammy, it's Dean. Well, you haven't been back in hours, and me and Y/N are getting pretty worried, so, uh, get your ass back here," He muttered the last part before shutting his phone and shoving it back in his pocket. You looked up at Dean with your arms crossed.

      "See?" Dean rolled his eyes and sat down beside you.

      "Whatever, I'm sure he's fine..." Dean said without much certainty in his voice, looking at the TV. You brought your knees up to your chest and tuned out the TV's noise as a sinking feeling gradually appeared in your stomach.

      As you daydreamed, blood spattering out of somebody's throat came into your mind. Then a fist slamming into someone's cheek and the person falling into a brick wall flashed behind your eyes. Holding in a gasp of surprise and fear, you blinked twice, clearing the image out of your mind. Suddenly, Sam appeared in your vision, and blood was coming out of his nose, and it glistened on his lips and chin as his cheek started to purple. You shook your head as your superstitions and worries started to take control of your thoughts. _That's not what's happening,_ you told yourself. You stood up from the couch, almost franticly.

      "Want a beer?" You asked Dean, steading your voice as best as you could. He muttered a 'sure', and you walked out of the small living area and into the little kitchen where the fridge was. You paused at the counter and steadied your nauseous worry for a moment. After regaining your composure, you yanked open the fridge and pulled out to icy beer bottles. You took a breath and walked back out to where Dean was, the TV becoming louder the closer you got.

      "Here," You said, gently tossing the bottle to him. Dean caught it and twisted the top off, giving you a small smile. You halfheartedly returned it before sitting back down on the couch, crossing your legs indian style.

      Dean eventually fell into a restless sleep, but you, on the other hand, were up to your head in worry and anxiousness. Another image created by your mind flickered behind your eyes; blood splattering and human growling, and then you saw Sam. It was him. The demons who had been slaughtered, it was him who had done it. And not only that, he was doing it again, _inhaling_ the blood like a druggie who had finally gotten another dose of heroin or marijuana. You sucked in a breath of disbelief and terror before shooting up off of the couch. You shoved on your boots, pulled on a jacket, and grabbed your gun, putting it in the inside pocket of your coat, then you rushed out the door.

* * *

      "Hey, man," Sam heard a male voice say from behind him. He turned and saw a guy who looked about 30, bald, and shady-looking. "I don't want to hurt you, so just come with me."

      "Uhm, I'd rather not," Sam said, taking a couple steps back into the ally. The man smirked blinked. When his eyes opened, they had flickered black. Sam's instinct flared and he instantly went for the demon knife.

      "No so fast, Sammy," the demon said before swinging at him. Pain spread across Sam's jaw, and he retaliated by swiping the knife across the demons throat, slitting it. The demon gasped, and Sam took his moment of surprise to stab him in the stomach and drag the knife up through his vessel's abdomen. Dark red blood spattered out of him, and Sam shoved him to the ground. Suddenly, the incredibly powerful need for _something_ washed over him. He sucked a breath in and walked farther down the ally way, when two more people - one man, one woman - stepped around the corner. The moment their eyes flashed black, Sam was at them, beating the guys face. Blood dripped out of his nose, and the demon swung back, smashing his fist into Sam's cheek, below his right eye. He slightly stumbled back, but the demon hit him again, and again, causing Sam to slam into the side of the brick building. Sam could hardly feel the blood dripping out of his nose, because the overpowering smell of the demon's blood was taking control of him. Feeling the rush again, Sam straightened up and swiftly brought the knife to the demon's neck, slicing it open. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as the female slammed something into Sam back. His breath caught in his chest as he flew forward, hitting the ground with such force he felt at least one layer of skin remove itself from his arm.

      "Get up," the only living demon growled, a bat dwindling in her hand. He looked to his left and saw blood trickling out of the dead demon's throat, and his body went into autopilot. He shot up from the ground and attached himself to the man's throat, taking what he craved. It set his body on fire, and when he demon came at him to try and wrench him off, only using half his force, he shoved her back. Sam felt the warm blood reach his mouth and flow down his throat. Within 5 minutes, he had drained it dry. When he stood, the woman was raising herself from the ground, blood trickling out of the corner of her mouth. Sam swiftly glided to her and violently gutted her, barely leaving her time to gasp. He let her drop to the ground, before dropping to the ground and letting his desire for _it_ take over. As he attached his lips to the incision that he'd made, everything went blank around him. Sam barely heard himself growling, but he did hear a voice in the back of his mind yelling for him to stop. Finally, it became loud enough and he detached himself from her limp body.

      He stood up and walked to the opening of the ally. Sam picked up the limp body of the first demon in a daze and threw it in the dumpster, along with the other two. Then he walked out of the ally in somewhat of a trance, heading in back to the motel.

* * *

 

      You were driving the streets looking for Sam on either side, somehow knowing that was where he was.

      "Dean's going to kill me when he figures out I took the car..." You muttered to yourself, trying not to think of the horrible things that might have happened. Then you saw him. You were sure it was him. You put more pressure on the gas pedal and sped down the road to meet him. You quickly parked the Impala next to the curb and barely got out before yanking the keys out. Sam seemed to barely be able to stand, and you pushed through people, running as fast as you could downhill.

      "Hey, watch it!" a douchey guy with a mohawk said rather loudly to you. You pushed him aside into one of his friends and kept running.

      "Sam!" You yelled when you had almost reached him. He turned and looked at you, his eyes glazed over in a daze. You finally got to him and he looked as if he were going to fall. "Hey, hey, Sam, take it easy, 'kay?" You murmured with false closure. You steadied him by putting each of your hands sturdily on both of his shoulders. You felt him lurch slightly, and he blinked a couple times.

      "Y/N, is that you?" He asked quietly, confusion in his voice. You nodded, feeling your eyes sting.

      "Yeah, Sammy, it's me," You told him, your voice breaking. He closed his eyes falling into you. You wrapped your arms around his back, tightening your grip protectively as people looked when they walked passed.

      "I'm so sorry, Y/N, I did it again," Sam murmured against your neck.

      "It doesn't matter, Sam, come on, it's time to go," You said quietly, trying to keep calm. He nodded against you, and you gently pushed him off of your chest. You gripped his hand and started walking to the car. He started to lean on you, and you let go of his hand to move your hand around his waist to keep him steady and upright. Finally, you made it to the car, and you walked around to the passenger side to make sure Sam got in right, then rushed around to the driver's side and dropped yourself in. You jammed the keys in and backed out of the space.

      "Sammy, you'll be okay, just hold on," You murmured as he began to reach over for you. You grabbed his hand and stepped on it, trying to get back to the motel as fast as you could.

* * *

      You busted through the door, and Dean jerked awake on the couch.

      "What the hell!" He shouted in surprise. The he realized what had happened. "Son of a bitch..." He whispered, standing up. You brought Sam over to the bed, and he immediately tried to stand up again.

      "Sam, just sit down, I-I need to check if you're hurt," You said, tugging at his jacket. He took it off, stopping you. Dean was standing next to you as you checked Sam for injury. You saw a red stain on his grey t-shirt and lifted it up, surprising Sam. It was still bleeding slightly, and when you touched the skin around it, Sam winced.

      "I'm fine, re-" he began, but you looked up at him with such worry and anger and sadness your eyes that made him stop.

      "Dean, get me a wet rag, please," You said, taking control. He nodded and walked off to the bathroom.

      "Y/N, I'm sorry, please don't leave me," Sam quietly pleaded. You looked into his eyes again and saw regret and fear. You furrowed your brow in sympathy and worry. Dean returned with the wet washcloth and handed it to you. You took it and pressed it gently to Sam gash.

      "I'm not going to leave you, Sammy," You murmured, kneeling and softly cleaning Sam's bloody skin. "I'm going to help you," You whispered when his small wound was clean. He looked down, ashamed, and it hurt you to think that his first thought and fear was the ones he loved leaving him.

      "Sammy... Did you.. ?" Dean stopped, sure that Sam knew what he meant. Sam slowly nodded. "I need to, um... I'll be back later." Dean left, feeling betrayed, and you were left with Sam.

      "Look, I get it. If you want to leave too-" Sam started.

      "No, Sam, remember, I'm not leaving you. I'm here to help you," You said quietly, no tone to your voice. You stood up, finally looking at Sam. You saw a tear streak glistening on his bruised cheek, and you lifted your hand to wipe it away. You turned and sat down beside him. Looking for his hand, you saw it laid on the blanket in the space between the two of you. You grabbed it and intertwined your fingers with him. "Come here," You whispered, patting your leg and motioning for him to put his head in your lap. He obeyed, and his tears of fear and regret slid off of his skin and onto your jeans.

      "How?" He whimpered.

      "How what, Sammy?" You asked, your voice breaking slightly. You brushed your fingers into his hair in a comforting gesture.

      "How are you going to help me?"

      "I don't know." You paused. "But I will, I promise." He didn't say anything, but, after a minute or so, he turned into your body and gripped your hand tight. You gently rubbed your hand up and down his back. His sobbing began to grow louder, to the point where they racked his body. You were doing everything you could not to cry, for his sake, but two tears streaked down your face. You rubbed your thumb across the top of his hand.

      Finally, he seemed to have fallen asleep. You stayed where you were, your arm draped across his back, feeling his warmth.

      "I'll save you, Sammy," You whispered. "I promise."


End file.
